Ship/Member: Gyuhao Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: soft, homecoming, realization of feelings, coming home to find love right by your side Permission to remix: Yes
***
Incheon Airport is empty and bright when Minghao emerges from the gate. When he gets to luggage pickup the transmission belt is looping around pointlessly. Minghao spots his bag easily. At least he doesn't have to endure the endless, crammed wait. His luggage wheels click softly against the tiled flooring as he heads to the doors. He’s been told that there’s a car waiting for him just outside, ready to take him back to the dorms.
It’s a tad surprising, the lack of fanfare. There’s no management team waiting to surround him, no clicking lenses and exhilarated cries of his name. There are few in the airport at this hour. A split family reuniting, a dog furry and blurry around their legs. A lone business woman, suit pants rumpled, top button of dress shirt undone. A couple kissing, tangled and caught-up and completely in their own world. Minghao looks away with a twinge in his chest.
The departure doors slide away with a light screech, shoving a blast of cold air at him. Minghao shivers and shoves his free hand into his pocket, instinctively huddling in on himself for warmth. By the time he’s through the second set of sliding doors the chill has sunk in deep, and Minghao is wishing fervently for a scarf. His breath is pale white and foggy in front of his nose, backdropped by a night sky like dark velvet and squid ink. A black car sits idly next to the sidewalk. Minghao halts next to the passenger window hesitantly. Just as his hand comes up to knock on the tinted window, it rolls down.
Mingyu’s face beams up at him from the driver’s seat.
“Welcome home.”
*
“Where is Manager-hyung?” Minghao asks seven minutes into the drive. Mingyu’s lips curl in a half moon smile on his profile.
“I convinced him to let me come alone.” He brakes at a red light and turns to smile softly at Minghao, bangs messy in his eyes and hair tousled, his voice round-edged and lovely in the low light. Minghao returns his gaze to the road, something unnamed pushing up his throat. Mingyu’s so beautiful like this, raw and unfiltered, that it aches somewhere deep inside him, somewhere that’s always been full to the brim with longing.
“I missed you, you know,” Mingyu adds, nudging the car into motion, speaking to the sprawling, deserted street. It sounds awfully like a confession. To what, Minghao doesn’t know. But it makes him fuzzy on the inside and his mouth dries up. Silence billows through the car. Mingyu cranks the radio on, some sad country twining through the air. Minghao still can’t reply.
Instead he leans his head against the window and watches the streetlights stream past outside, looking like dashes of shooting stars. Minghao closes his eyes and wishes for courage.
They drive in silence for the next ten minutes, the radio soft and fuzzy in the background. Rain has begun a steady drumming against the windshield, the motions of the wipers hypnotic.
At some point Mingyu lands a broad hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly. Minghao finally unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth and says:
“I missed you too.”
He hears Mingyu’s smile, and with a last bit of courage Minghao closes his hand around the one on his thigh. Mingyu turns his over so that they’re palm to palm, fingers intertwining like no time has passed.
Minghao melts into the seat and breathes a little easier.
*
Mingyu drops him off at his dorm with a one-armed hug, a little hip squeeze to emphasize.
“‘Night,” he says, all crooked smile and endearingly husky voice, before disappearing into the elevator that’s just opened for him. Minghao stares after him for a solid two minutes before he can clear his mind enough to fumble through his bag and let himself in with the key. It’s dark inside, only a sliver of light revealed from under Joshua’s door. Voices drift over mutedly; Minghao catches Seungcheol’s hacking laughter and it hits him suddenly, just how much he’s missed them and the space they take up in his peripheral vision.
He toes his shoes off carefully at the door and rolls his suitcase quietly toward his room, passing Joshua’s room, where soft voices and peaceful music spill from the crack. Like a moth drawn to flame, he lingers outside, something pulling at his chest, a deep-rooted longing to abandon his things and join Seungcheol and Joshua, crawl between them and wedge himself there.
He pulls himself away, wheels his suitcase into the cold darkness of his room and flicks on the light. Memories sputter to life before him.
Mingyu, stretched out languidly on the bed. Mingyu, restringing the fairy lights. Mingyu, a bottle of Cabernet swinging from his fingertips. Mingyu, playful and cuddly and beautiful and perf—
Minghao chucks his bag onto his bed and shuts off the light, a little too aggressively, and retreats before he chokes on the memories. He doesn’t even knock at Joshua’s door, simply barrels in, peeling off his coat and climbing onto the bed. They don’t look surprised, molding themselves around him, Seungcheol reaching to sweep stray hairs off his face.
“Myungho-yah,” he starts, and Minghao is grateful to hear that his tone isn’t teasing or chastising. He sounds a little concerned. Joshua presses closer to him on the other side. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, throwing an arm over his face, “Mingyu came to pick me up today.” He doesn’t know why he starts there. It just feels significant.
Joshua hums, non-interruptive, letting Minghao take his time. He lets himself wallow in the silence for a bit, sifting through his thoughts, the swirl of ambivalence sitting tight in his chest. It’s all very difficult to express.
He misses Mingyu. He missed Mingyu. That is perhaps the single most clear thing he knows. But it’s no different. He’s been missing Mingyu, missing all of them, for the past few months and it’s become ingrained in him, this missing. So it’s not at all different and completely different at the same time because Mingyu also misses Minghao and it feels precious. It feels like he misses him because he loves him, in that special way he’s always wanted to be loved.
There.
He thinks back to the journey from the car to the entrance of the dorm, how they’d sprinted and giggled the whole way and how Mingyu’s eyes had sparkled when they’d ducked under an awning, effervescent with joy, the rain loud overhead and the neither of them caring. It makes him warm all over, thinking of it.
“I think I love him,” Minghao whispers, the conclusion so novel, so wonderfully right. He opens his eyes. Moves his arm to look at his hyungs. “I think I’m in love with him.”
Joshua and Seungcheol look down at him with matching expressions of quiet fondness.
“We know, Hao, we know.”
*
Minghao goes to find Mingyu first thing the next morning.
Wonwoo lets him in, eyes sleepy but clearing when he sees Minghao. “You’re back,” he says, enthusiastic, and pulls Minghao into a hug. Minghao squeezes him back and abandons him to go look for Mingyu.
He lets himself in quietly, finding Mingyu on his bed, rumpled covers around him, scrolling through his phone. The sunlight hits his bare face at a slant, painting one side gold. He looks beautiful like this. Raw. Unfiltered. Minghao loves him. With a sudden visceral clarity.
“Gyu,” he starts, uncertain. Mingyu meets his eyes and his mouth curls up; his phone is dropped without being spared a second glance onto the bedside table.
“Hao,” he says, and it sounds like an acknowledgement. He’s smiling, like he knows of the fragile courage Minghao is grasping, like he knows exactly what Minghao wants and is afraid to say without his having to say it.
“Gyu, I missed you.” I love you, in between the words. Mingyu’s smile widens.
“I’m right here,” he says, eyes bright and voice brighter, palms upturned and welcoming. “I’m right here.” I love you too. Everything loosens in Minghao’s chest at once and he’s rushing towards Mingyu’s bed, toppling onto Mingyu, sending them careening backwards. Laughter spills between them, and Minghao ends up straddling Mingyu’s hips. He lets himself melt into Mingyu.
“I know.” Minghao burrows into Mingyu’s arms, tucking his face against Mingyu’s chest. “I was an idiot, I’m sorry.”
“My idiot,” Mingyu replies, ridiculously fond, and when Minghao pulls back to chide him he’s already laughing, tongue poking into his cheek, cheesier than cheese pizza. Minghao can’t hide his love-struck smile.
Grinning, he lowers his face and kisses Mingyu, chaste, corner and corner and then fully. When he pulls back Mingyu beams.
Minghao is finally, finally at home.
陪伴是最长情的告白 companionship is the longest confession
*** (ik this is the second fill for this prompt but i couldn't resist) first time posting for 17hols and so nervous but here it is! hope somebody enjoys (it's cheesy at the end but so am i so i think that's justified...)
Re: [FILL] coming home to you
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: soft, homecoming, realization of feelings, coming home to find love right by your side
Permission to remix: Yes
***
Incheon Airport is empty and bright when Minghao emerges from the gate. When he gets to luggage pickup the transmission belt is looping around pointlessly. Minghao spots his bag easily. At least he doesn't have to endure the endless, crammed wait. His luggage wheels click softly against the tiled flooring as he heads to the doors. He’s been told that there’s a car waiting for him just outside, ready to take him back to the dorms.
It’s a tad surprising, the lack of fanfare. There’s no management team waiting to surround him, no clicking lenses and exhilarated cries of his name. There are few in the airport at this hour. A split family reuniting, a dog furry and blurry around their legs. A lone business woman, suit pants rumpled, top button of dress shirt undone. A couple kissing, tangled and caught-up and completely in their own world. Minghao looks away with a twinge in his chest.
The departure doors slide away with a light screech, shoving a blast of cold air at him. Minghao shivers and shoves his free hand into his pocket, instinctively huddling in on himself for warmth. By the time he’s through the second set of sliding doors the chill has sunk in deep, and Minghao is wishing fervently for a scarf. His breath is pale white and foggy in front of his nose, backdropped by a night sky like dark velvet and squid ink. A black car sits idly next to the sidewalk. Minghao halts next to the passenger window hesitantly. Just as his hand comes up to knock on the tinted window, it rolls down.
Mingyu’s face beams up at him from the driver’s seat.
“Welcome home.”
*
“Where is Manager-hyung?” Minghao asks seven minutes into the drive. Mingyu’s lips curl in a half moon smile on his profile.
“I convinced him to let me come alone.” He brakes at a red light and turns to smile softly at Minghao, bangs messy in his eyes and hair tousled, his voice round-edged and lovely in the low light. Minghao returns his gaze to the road, something unnamed pushing up his throat. Mingyu’s so beautiful like this, raw and unfiltered, that it aches somewhere deep inside him, somewhere that’s always been full to the brim with longing.
“I missed you, you know,” Mingyu adds, nudging the car into motion, speaking to the sprawling, deserted street. It sounds awfully like a confession. To what, Minghao doesn’t know. But it makes him fuzzy on the inside and his mouth dries up. Silence billows through the car. Mingyu cranks the radio on, some sad country twining through the air. Minghao still can’t reply.
Instead he leans his head against the window and watches the streetlights stream past outside, looking like dashes of shooting stars. Minghao closes his eyes and wishes for courage.
They drive in silence for the next ten minutes, the radio soft and fuzzy in the background. Rain has begun a steady drumming against the windshield, the motions of the wipers hypnotic.
At some point Mingyu lands a broad hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly. Minghao finally unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth and says:
“I missed you too.”
He hears Mingyu’s smile, and with a last bit of courage Minghao closes his hand around the one on his thigh. Mingyu turns his over so that they’re palm to palm, fingers intertwining like no time has passed.
Minghao melts into the seat and breathes a little easier.
*
Mingyu drops him off at his dorm with a one-armed hug, a little hip squeeze to emphasize.
“‘Night,” he says, all crooked smile and endearingly husky voice, before disappearing into the elevator that’s just opened for him. Minghao stares after him for a solid two minutes before he can clear his mind enough to fumble through his bag and let himself in with the key. It’s dark inside, only a sliver of light revealed from under Joshua’s door. Voices drift over mutedly; Minghao catches Seungcheol’s hacking laughter and it hits him suddenly, just how much he’s missed them and the space they take up in his peripheral vision.
He toes his shoes off carefully at the door and rolls his suitcase quietly toward his room, passing Joshua’s room, where soft voices and peaceful music spill from the crack. Like a moth drawn to flame, he lingers outside, something pulling at his chest, a deep-rooted longing to abandon his things and join Seungcheol and Joshua, crawl between them and wedge himself there.
He pulls himself away, wheels his suitcase into the cold darkness of his room and flicks on the light. Memories sputter to life before him.
Mingyu, stretched out languidly on the bed. Mingyu, restringing the fairy lights. Mingyu, a bottle of Cabernet swinging from his fingertips. Mingyu, playful and cuddly and beautiful and perf—
Minghao chucks his bag onto his bed and shuts off the light, a little too aggressively, and retreats before he chokes on the memories. He doesn’t even knock at Joshua’s door, simply barrels in, peeling off his coat and climbing onto the bed. They don’t look surprised, molding themselves around him, Seungcheol reaching to sweep stray hairs off his face.
“Myungho-yah,” he starts, and Minghao is grateful to hear that his tone isn’t teasing or chastising. He sounds a little concerned. Joshua presses closer to him on the other side. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbles, throwing an arm over his face, “Mingyu came to pick me up today.” He doesn’t know why he starts there. It just feels significant.
Joshua hums, non-interruptive, letting Minghao take his time. He lets himself wallow in the silence for a bit, sifting through his thoughts, the swirl of ambivalence sitting tight in his chest. It’s all very difficult to express.
He misses Mingyu. He missed Mingyu. That is perhaps the single most clear thing he knows. But it’s no different. He’s been missing Mingyu, missing all of them, for the past few months and it’s become ingrained in him, this missing. So it’s not at all different and completely different at the same time because Mingyu also misses Minghao and it feels precious. It feels like he misses him because he loves him, in that special way he’s always wanted to be loved.
There.
He thinks back to the journey from the car to the entrance of the dorm, how they’d sprinted and giggled the whole way and how Mingyu’s eyes had sparkled when they’d ducked under an awning, effervescent with joy, the rain loud overhead and the neither of them caring. It makes him warm all over, thinking of it.
“I think I love him,” Minghao whispers, the conclusion so novel, so wonderfully right. He opens his eyes. Moves his arm to look at his hyungs. “I think I’m in love with him.”
Joshua and Seungcheol look down at him with matching expressions of quiet fondness.
“We know, Hao, we know.”
*
Minghao goes to find Mingyu first thing the next morning.
Wonwoo lets him in, eyes sleepy but clearing when he sees Minghao. “You’re back,” he says, enthusiastic, and pulls Minghao into a hug. Minghao squeezes him back and abandons him to go look for Mingyu.
He lets himself in quietly, finding Mingyu on his bed, rumpled covers around him, scrolling through his phone. The sunlight hits his bare face at a slant, painting one side gold. He looks beautiful like this. Raw. Unfiltered. Minghao loves him. With a sudden visceral clarity.
“Gyu,” he starts, uncertain. Mingyu meets his eyes and his mouth curls up; his phone is dropped without being spared a second glance onto the bedside table.
“Hao,” he says, and it sounds like an acknowledgement. He’s smiling, like he knows of the fragile courage Minghao is grasping, like he knows exactly what Minghao wants and is afraid to say without his having to say it.
“Gyu, I missed you.” I love you, in between the words. Mingyu’s smile widens.
“I’m right here,” he says, eyes bright and voice brighter, palms upturned and welcoming. “I’m right here.” I love you too. Everything loosens in Minghao’s chest at once and he’s rushing towards Mingyu’s bed, toppling onto Mingyu, sending them careening backwards. Laughter spills between them, and Minghao ends up straddling Mingyu’s hips. He lets himself melt into Mingyu.
“I know.” Minghao burrows into Mingyu’s arms, tucking his face against Mingyu’s chest. “I was an idiot, I’m sorry.”
“My idiot,” Mingyu replies, ridiculously fond, and when Minghao pulls back to chide him he’s already laughing, tongue poking into his cheek, cheesier than cheese pizza. Minghao can’t hide his love-struck smile.
Grinning, he lowers his face and kisses Mingyu, chaste, corner and corner and then fully. When he pulls back Mingyu beams.
Minghao is finally, finally at home.
陪伴是最长情的告白
companionship is the longest confession
***
(ik this is the second fill for this prompt but i couldn't resist)
first time posting for 17hols and so nervous but here it is! hope somebody enjoys
(it's cheesy at the end but so am i so i think that's justified...)